It’s Amalfi hot. You’ve swum. Your 'camicia fantasia' is open. Gold chain working overtime. Citrus trees hum with bees. 
Somewhere, the putti are smirking.
Your pilsner arrives ice-cold with a reckless, wet foam - hay, honeysuckle, lemon verbena, a touch of honey.
First sip vanishes. Clean. Dry. Dangerous.
Crisp, herbal finish. Structured. Gone too soon.
Blame the putti. Order another.

5.2% ABV